


Ashes

by Raccoonfg



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Childbirth, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raccoonfg/pseuds/Raccoonfg
Summary: When the fire died out, all that remained were the ashes of their mistakes.





	Ashes

 

The fireplace had not been used since that regretful night when the two of them had tried to cast away their shame in a spark of self-disgust. What was once an inviting port of brick and mortar that brought warmth now stood dead and untouched. Its chamber was devoid of all signs of past use. No logs. No ash. Not even the grate remained.

A cold empty hearth.

And still every night, much like this one, Nick found himself sitting in front of it, staring into the black depth of the fireplace.

Never forgetting.

Always waiting.

The sounds and smells of that evening still lingered on his senses; dug in like a hungry tick that he could never remove. Early on he had tried all sorts of sprays and perfumes to cover the stink; played all kinds of records and albums to drown out the din. But still the cries rang in his ears and the odor bled through his nostrils.

They had come out here, him and Judy, to escape their shame and now they were prisoners of it in the small wooden cabin, deep in the woods outside Bunnyburrow.

It seemed like ages ago when the wind had changed in Zootopia, bringing back old prejudices that they thought were laid to rest with the end of Bellwether’s reign. It returned so strong, more powerful than ever before that the two of them were left with no other choice than to leave the city so they could stay together.

At first the Burrows was a simple place to take refuge. Family was always welcome, after all; no matter who you were married to. If anything, their union was a novelty, rather than a disgrace.

But everything changed when Judy became aware of the swelling from within.

Such a thing was extremely rare; practically a statistical impossibility only second to getting struck by lightning twice in a lifetime. Yet it still happened to them. And while an interspecies relationship was easy for the Hopps clan to digest, what they had accidentally conceived would be a far more bitter pill to swallow.

So after a tense and unpleasant conversation between them and her parents on a rainy afternoon, it was decided that they would be allowed to stay at the old family cabin, being that no matter how offensive the situation was to them they could not put their own daughter out in the cold.

The child, however, would never be welcome on the farm.

Life in benevolent exile was naturally unhappy, but they made the most of it as they had nowhere left to go. While Judy’s stomach grew and bulged, Nick did his best to keep her comfortable and used every inch of his wit to preserve the smile on her face, blanketing the restless concerns that rumbled deep within them both. In the evenings they would sit together by the fireplace, and fall asleep as the logs crackled and burned.

And then the day of it’s arrival came.

A doctor drove in from town at Nick’s request, and though his medical oath gave him no hesitation in aiding them, it was when he packed away his things and assured Nick that both Judy and the baby would be fine that Nick saw the look of guilt by association on the old beaver’s face. He didn’t even stay to discuss a bill; he simply got in his truck and left as quick as he came, leaving Nick and Judy alone with their newborn and the strange, pained wailing that it made.

A birth should have brought happiness or hope, but in the days that followed Nick saw that it only caused worrisome changes in Judy. When the baby cried or needed to be fed, Judy held it and took care of it, but not in the loving closeness of a mother and her child. There was a distant numbness in Judy’s interactions with it, a disconnection that she abruptly confirmed one night for Nick when the two of them were lying in bed together.

“It isn’t mine.”

Such a statement should have shocked Nick, but deep down he found it hard to deny the feeling. Since he first laid eyes on their newborn, he couldn’t fathom it as something they created, let alone something he could love.

Not quite rabbit, not quite fox. The proportions of the wrinkled, underdeveloped kit’s body seemed… wrong. Ears, tail, snout, paws; all “off”. And it was this revulsion that unnerved Nick to the very core, for not once in his life did Nick ever imagine himself capable of being repulsed by something as innocent and blameless as an infant, much less his own flesh and blood. If he could call it that.

But even in moments of weakness where he pitied the small creature and its hideous visage, he could never bring himself to touch it, to hold it like a proud father should. Not even when it cried.

And oh did it cry.

The weeps and wails of their child would tear through the cabin like claws raked over glass; a shrill howl that undulated in its pitch as the squeals strained out. No matter what they did to calm it, the kit would continue to exhale its pained noises until it had either grown tired or short on breath.

The child was suffering.

They were suffering.

And it wasn’t before long that the pressure and isolation broke them on a cold and loathsome night.

He couldn’t remember the words they said to each other, only that they had conspired together in hushed whispers, jumbling together broken sentences as their sleep deprived minds struggled to keep them running. Justifications and excuses were tossed back and forth haphazardly.

This was a mistake.

We should have corrected it long ago.

It’ll only keep living in pain.

It might not even survive.

No one would question it.

It would be for the best.

And by the time they had finished hissing their rationales, the two of them sat there with heavy, haunted looks on their faces as they glanced towards the bedroom, where their wretched progeny soundly slept.

Nick rose from his seat, walked over to the crib, and for the first time, he picked up his son and held his small, light body in his arms. Then quietly he carried him back into the living room, carefully laid him down, and struck a match.

The fireplace was never used again.

Days, weeks and months had passed, and though they once thought that this would have freed them from their burden, the guilt and remorse ensnared them further in their wooden prison. Nick only left sparingly to get food and supplies, while Judy never went anywhere and could barely be left alone for very long.

The depression in her had worsened and ate away at both her mind and body. She was a fragile shell of the rabbit Nick once knew to be so full of energy and optimism. Now thin and frail; even her violet eyes had grown dim and grey. From day to day she would shuffle about aimlessly, murmuring about the cold getting to her, and Nick would do what he could to keep her warm - save for that one thing - but it never seemed to make any difference.

And so it was on this night, while staring into the fireplace, that Nick heard his wife stirring in the bedroom. Thinking she again needed an extra blanket, he rose to his feet and wandered over to check on her.

Normally he would find her either compulsively pacing and wringing her paws, or laying down in bed, shivering under the sheets, but this time she was instead calmly sitting upright, paws rested on her lap, with her head cocked towards a nearby window. And what was more out of place for her was that for the first time in a long time, her ears were perked up at full height. Nick had never seen them do anything other than droop at her sides since this nightmare had crept upon them.

He was still trying to sort out what to think of this sudden alertness in her when he noticed that her mouth was moving ever so softly, and his ears began to pick up the faintest whispers escaping her lips.

“Judy, hon’? Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond to him, but he was certain she heard him as her muttering suddenly stopped and her body tensed up.

“Judy..?”

“I heard him calling for me,” Judy mumbled aloud, and then turned to look back at Nick. Her face was emotionless, yet earnest. “He’s out there and he needs me.”

“Who?”

Slowly, Judy’s face softened, regaining that air of sadness Nick had grown familiar with, and she turned back towards the window before finally answering him.

“Our son.”

At first Nick was dumbstruck, uselessly working his mouth as his mind scrambled to make sense of it all, but soon the words came to him.

“Jude, you’re just… Hearing things.”

Judy didn’t reply to his reasoning, she simply continued to sit there, staring out the window in silence while Nick continued on.

“I think- I think maybe you’re overtired.”

Watching for any possible change in her demeanor, his gaze lingered on her as he started to shuffle back out of the bedroom, but none came.

“You’ll feel better after some rest. H-how about I fix you something warm to drink- To help you sleep?”

Nick didn’t wait any longer for an answer. He closed the bedroom door and hurried over to the kitchenette where he poured a glass of milk and placed it in the microwave. His paw hesitated over the start button for a moment, unsure of what he was worried about, and then with a rough exhale he pressed it.

As he watched the glass rotate and listened to the dull hum of radiation, Nick brooded over what just happened in the other room. Judy had been fraying for some time now, but hallucinations were something else entirely.

He knew that the day would come where he’d need to get her professional help, but the idea of anyone learning the truth about what they had done filled him with dread. Even if he took the blame, Judy would still be an accomplice in the eyes of the law, and he couldn’t bear to think of her being locked away in the state she was in.

For Nick, there was no question about it, this had to remain a secret between them, no matter how hard it would be to continue caring for her.

With the milk ready, Nick picked it up and started to make his return to the bedroom, only to pause in his steps when the fireplace came back into view. It was the way the light shone on the mantelpiece that caught his eye. He had often tried to ignore the dark glistening stain that coated the brickwork but from this angle the pallid glaze was impossible to miss.

Almost rooted to the floor, he gawked at it, feeling the urge to unwrap a paw from the warm milk so he could reach out and touch it; to feel the cold, slimy tallow he had never brought himself to scrub away, no matter how much it reminded him of the sickening odor of meat.

It was the sharp click of the deadbolt on the front door that broke him from his trance, causing him to spin on his heels so recklessly that the milk sloshed and splattered about. And still he wasn’t quick enough to spot anything more than the back of his wife slipping outside.

Outside.

She went outside.

The realization reverberated in Nick’s skull as the cup slipped from his paw, shattering against the floorboards. The wet crash of glass against wood was like a starting gun, signalling a gut reaction in Nick to dash after her.

But no matter how quickly he flung open the front door and scampered off the cabin’s rickety deck, Judy had managed to outpace him.

Hunched over, struggling to refill his lungs with ragged breath, he cocked his head up from the ground to find that he was alone in the cold, misty forest with not a single sign of where she had headed. Other than the heavy panting that came with each rise and fall of his chest, the woods were deathly quiet.

“J-Judy?” Nick’s wide eyes scanned the area, straining to penetrate the darkness that deepened beyond the cabin’s glow. “Juuudyyy!”

Panic stoked the flames in his mind as he lurched forward in a blind direction, stumbling through the brush, weaving around the trees, twisting his head every which way in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Judy.

He couldn’t lose her. Not out here. Not like this.

“Juuudyyy!” Nick called out again, his voice now diminished into a cracked whimper. Already short on breath from running, the anxiety festering within him was making it ever harder to breathe, constricting his lungs with fear. The scattered beams of moonlight that lanced through the thick canopy started to swirl and dance around as dizziness overtook him, hindering his already erratic footing until he finally caught himself on a stray root, sending him toppling down to the cold, hard earth.

In his blurred vision, Nick thought he saw a faint shadow dart between the trees, giving him cause to pick himself up from the ground. As he fought against his disobedient legs, he breathed in to bellow another cry for his wife, only to halt midway when the smell of ash inflamed his senses.

_“Maaamaaa…”_

From the peak of his scalp to the tip of his tail, Nick’s fur stood on end, a tingling coldness crept over his spine. He knew that he stood alone, and yet the frail, airy whisper bit so closely to his ear that whoever - whatever - uttered it may as well have been leaning right over his shoulder. Against all temptation, Nick stood perfectly still with his head straight forward and waited for whatever was to come.

For what felt like a breathless eternity, the ashen odor hung over him, smothering what little shallow wisps of air he allowed himself to take in his frozen state. His body felt heavy, weighted down by the very atmosphere itself. It was like he was back in Zootopia, packed into a subway car during rush hour, trapped beneath the towering elephants. And then just when it seemed like the oppressive, unseen force could strangle him no further without breaking him entirely, the soot and ember faded from his nostrils, and the crushing force released its grip. Still looking forward, Nick sensed something large stride over him and off into the distance, but he saw nothing; only darkness.

Not quite sure what to make of the experience, Nick continued to hold his ground. His body trembled and shook violently while his breathing returned in heavy, frantic spurts. Every joint seemed to ache madly from the sudden release of tension. He wanted to scream. He wanted to unleash every ounce of adrenaline he had held back for survival. He was a bubble ready to burst.

And then the pin prick came.

_“Maaamaaa…”_

Like a bullet, Nick shot off wildly, scrambling even deeper into the woods in a frenzied need to put as much distance as possible between where he was and where he was going, regardless of whether or not he even knew where he was headed in the first place. Everything around him streaked past his vision in a blur; just formless smears of brown and green. He ran and ran until the wind raked and tore away at his lungs, making each labored gasp for air into a painful fire that raged within him. And just when that fire started to burn out into dry wheezes, he caught sight of a clearing up ahead, and in the pale light that bathed it he saw the familiar figure of a small, sickly rabbit.

“J-Juu- Hah… Juu- Juuudyyy…” The words that he struggled to form scratched at his throat, making the cries for her into near inaudible whines. His pace slowed into a stagger as he closed in on her and reached out a paw in a desperate need to pull her back to him.

But despite his fumbling grasp and hoarse pleas, Judy calmly walked away from him, gazing ahead into the shadows that encircled the clearing.

“Ju- Judy, please…”

“I’m here,” Judy called into the darkness. “I’m here.”

Nick paused in his tracks. “W- Wha- Judy- Judy I’m behind you--”

“I’m so sorry,” Judy apologized. “I wasn’t there for you then, but I’m here now.”

“Judy, stop this,” Nick groaned. “Please, come back with m--”

“Mama’s here.”

And then the stench of ash and sulfur hit Nick stronger than before, bringing with it a sinking, overwhelming pressure that dropped him helplessly to his knees, and from the beyond the veil of nightfall a shape emerged.

_“Maaamaaa…”_

Formed of billowing black smoke, the massive figure loomed over Judy, crawling on all fours with its broad, hulking shoulders arched up against the back of its head. Its long ears twisted and darted about like candlelight, while the fat, pointed tail that dragged behind it swished around snake-like. If it had eyes Nick could not make them out in the pitch black façade of its face. But he could still certainly make out the wide, lolling mouth that heavily hung open, revealing two long, jagged incisors.

_“Maaamaaa…”_

“Oohh, look at you,” Judy cooed as she gently approached it. “You’ve grown into such a big boy.”

Rooted to the ground like a useless stump, Nick could only watch on in horror as the scene unfolded before him. He couldn’t even find the strength to beg her to run away; any words his mind could summon sat dead in his mouth.

“Shhh… Shhh…” Judy softly hushed as she reached out a paw to soothe the creature. “It’ll all be okay… Mama’s here…”

Slowly the monstrosity lowered its head to meet Judy’s outstretched arm, only to continue further down, gaping its mouth wider and wider, stretching over her small body, welcoming her into its descending maw.

“Mama’s here…”

Nick didn’t wait to see her disappear into the creature’s mouth; he cowardly tore his eyes away from the gruesome sight, praying that this was all just a bad dream, that he’d wake up in bed with Judy by his side and everything would be back to normal again.

But that was not to be.

The moist, cracking snap of meat and bones jolted through his ears, shocking Nick to his feet. Without looking back he hurtled off into the woods, back to where he came, while a shrill, pained howl of anguish echoed behind him, rattling the very trees as it grew in its intensity.

Any stress he had put on his body, any pain he had felt in his lungs was ignored and forgotten as Nick sped through the forest, desperately seeking out any sign of the cabin’s warming glow. His mind was so dead set on taking refuge he couldn’t tell if the wrathful presence was still tailing after him and he didn’t dare to check.

In time, the distant light of the cabin could be seen shining through the thicket and swelled into a welcoming aura as he raced towards it. Past the porch, through the entrance, into the living room, Nick skidded against the round throw rug and lunged backwards to hurl the door shut, collapsing against its surface as he hastily locked it. He only allowed himself an instant’s rest before rousing back up with a single thought.

Barricade.

His surveyed the room for the largest thing he could brace against the door, and quickly settled on the couch by the fireplace. Rushing around the side of it, a stabbing pain pierced through the padding of his foot, causing him to stumble against the armrest in surprise at the unexpected sting.

Sucking his teeth, Nick looked down and found that he had trampled on the remains of a glass of milk, long forgotten in all the chaos. Blood trickled from the shards embedded in his foot and mingled with the white puddle below. Nick trembled as he reached down and plucked out a large piece, holding in the urge to whimper. Then he removed another; and another; and another; until he arrived at the final glittering fragment and stopped.

As his paw hovered over the sliver of glass, his chest started to rumble and shake while the corners of his mouth curled up weakly in a defeated smile.

And then he laughed.

He laughed and laughed an unnatural, stilted laugh.

And as the mirthless chortling went on, tears welled up around his eyes and streamed down his face. And with their flow the laughter faded to sobbing. Sobbing led to weeping, and weeping into bawling, until he crumpled into a miserable mess on the floor.

Useless.

It was all so useless.

There was no escape. Not even if he managed to somehow survive the night. He would have to live with it all. Everything. Every pitiful mistake he made. Every loathsome choice he took. Every cowardly way he failed his wife; his blood.

In the end, there was only one clear answer.

Just let it end his suffering.

It would be for the best.

As he gingerly picked himself up from the floor and hobbled around the couch, he thought about what was coming and managed one last bitter chuckle before settling down in front of the fireplace.

“Like father, like son.”

And then quietly he sat there, staring into that empty black void where fire no longer burned.

Waiting.

Waiting to smell the ashes one last time.

_“Paaapaaa…”_

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was loosely inspired by the artist NAH, and a link to the original comic is noted below:
> 
> http://not-an-artblog.tumblr.com/post/161787030848/the-first-pic-is-a-joke-i-drew-like-a-year-ago-and
> 
> The opening and closing artwork is by TPF:
> 
> https://totallyplatonicfriend.tumblr.com/


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